


The Talking Shadows of Hemmington Way: Chapter 1

by OranisAlpine



Series: The Talking Shadows of Hemmington Way [1]
Category: Idk man - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Animals, Science Fiction, Spies & Secret Agents, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 00:49:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18084137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OranisAlpine/pseuds/OranisAlpine
Summary: Teenage secret agents solve mysteries and cute animals help them.I'm a college student who doesn't want to study so I write this shit.





	The Talking Shadows of Hemmington Way: Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. You've found my story. I couldn't find anywhere else to publish this so here I am, back to where I published in middle school. Awful. Anyway, now that I'm a declared Bio/Chem major, I might was well share this shit with the world. Thanks.

Chapter 1

A single flashlight beam crept across the deli interior hours before dawn, reflecting off the overturned tables and broken glass strewn across the entryway. Careful footsteps toed around the shards, the occasional misstep splitting the stagnant air. 

A car backfired in the abyss, startling the trespasser. The flashlight clattered to the floor and went out, engulfing her world in darkness. She cursed under her breath and groped in the blackness, the shards catching her hands a million ways, drawing blood as she persisted with her search. Victory momentarily found her as she grasped the canister and fumbled for the switch, but dashed her hopes when the light failed to illuminate. 

She widened and squinted her eyes, hoping to adjust to the darkness faster, now that she would have to rely solely on that. Stepping silently down the hall to the door of the utility closet, she turned her key in the lock and stepped inside. She pulled the sleeve of her jacket down over her hands and wiped her blood off the handle as best as she could in the dark before closing the door silently behind her. Her hand briefly wavered as she swiped her ID card into the small box on the wall disguised as the deli’s breaker. She typed in her passphrase and pushed back the false wall when the breakers’ lights turned green. The base of the false wall ground against the floor, a complaint for having to work so early in the morning. 

She paused before continuing, breathing hard and taking a seat on the top step of the spiral staircase that descended before her. Deep breaths steadied her nerves, the gulps of air quavering in the silence as she tried to gather her senses. She had only a glimpse of her hands in the green glow of the breaker, and she knew that was enough to fail, even after passing all the preliminaries. But she couldn’t quit now. She just couldn’t. The blood pulsed in her ears, the crashing waves an echo in the silence. Slowly rising to her feet, she pulled back her shoulders in silent defiance against the “better judgement” of prior agents. Stubbornness pushed her more than confidence down the staircase, her forearms feeling the pitch back walls as not to mark them in blood. 

As she descended, a lump began to form in her throat and hot tears pushed behind her eyes. All the mutters and remarks from the past roared through her about “maybe waiting a year or two” and how “being an apprentice is always an option.” She would be no apprentice. She was good enough to be an agent, a pure imigname with the retinas to prove it. Hot tears poured down her cheeks as the mantra continued: she was good enough, she was good enough.

All of a sudden, she froze. The soft clanging of shifting metal echoed evenly off the cylindrical concrete wall, even after she had stopped walking. At first instinct, she looked up, expecting that someone was following her. Had she forgotten to lock the false wall? All thoughts cleared her mind as her gaze fell upon her shadow being projected above, and she peered into the depths to see a light coming closer. She tensed and stilled her breath as the figure ascended the steps to her, pressing her back against the wall in a meager attempt to become invisible.   
The figure stopped on the landing and faced her, shining the light in her eyes.

“Catherine?”

She opened her eyes against the light and squinted. Her vision was still blurred by the tears, but the blue eyes and light brown vintage a-line were unmistakable.

Catherine sat down and began to sob.

She wasn’t good enough, and she knew it. 

The other girl sat down next to her, and Catherine collapsed in her arms. She held tightly to the older girl, Catherine’s face cradled on the girl’s shoulder, forehead against her neck. Had the situation been different, the moment would have been an intimacy neither had the luxury to afford, but the threat of prospect initiation less than three hours away made such comforting contact purely for business. They held together for a minute more before the older girl pulled away and held Catherine’s face in her hands, wiping away her tears. 

“What’s wrong, Katie Kat?” She whispered.

“I can’t do it, Leigh, I can’t become an agent.” 

“Why not?”

“Because I messed up.” Catherine whimpered.

Leigh chuckled. “No you didn’t. You did your preliminaries perfectly and you got all the way to initiation. There are only two others who made it that far.”

“I don’t mean I messed up then, I mean I messed up now.”

Leigh pulled away. “What do you mean?”

“There’s glass everywhere and I cut myself looking for my flashlight and I got blood on the floor and breaker and Owen’s going to find out it was me and I’m not going to get initiated today…” 

Catherine began to cry again, her words slurring into each other and her voice breaking with every other word as she continued to catastrophize. 

Leigh pulled out her phone, dialed, and waited. 

“This is Nancy Drew to Lion Boy, Nancy Drew to Lion Boy. Come in Lion Boy.”

The phone clicked as someone else picked up.

“This is Lion Boy,” came a crackled reply.

“Hey, I’m on the stairs with Redfort and she says that the deli has been broken into. There’s glass and she cut herself pretty bad. Have you heard anything about this?”

The line on the other end went dead. Muffled voices came through in bursts until the voice of Lion Boy came back on.

“We’ve heard nothing. Send Redfort down and go check it out.”

“Gotcha,” Leigh replied. “She’s on her way.”

“We’re waiting for her. And whatever you do, don’t let Owen find out.”

“Copy that,” Leigh remarked, and both sides of the conversation ended.

Leigh pulled Catherine back into her arms.

“It’s going to be okay.” She rocked Catherine a few more times, and pulled her to her feet. “Just get down there as soon as you can, and don’t touch anything.”

Catherine nodded, her tears finally stopped. She gave Leigh a lopsided smile, and with a peck on the top of her head, Catherine headed down the staircase, feeling better, but not fully confident.

She gave one last look to the girl ascending the stairs and briefly managed, “See ya.”

“See ya, Katie Kat,” came a reply, quick enough to keep moving, but long enough to carry Catherine all the way down the stairs and through the corridor with the minimum confidence required to get to Headquarters. 

A young man hid in the shadows at the end of the corridor, his ebony skin reflecting the fluorescents as he stepped into the light when Catherine drew closer. He nodded to her as they met, his eyes holding intense focus on her cradled palms pooling blood. Her cuts sparkled under the fluorescents, shards of glass still embedded from first contact. He reached out to her, taking her hands in his. 

“Can you move all your fingers?” He inquired clinically. Seeming satisfied enough with her wordless nod, he decided he would resume questioning when inside headquarters. 

He pressed his fingers spread eagle to the scanner to the massive industrial gear that served as their main entrance. The scanner flashed green and the gear shrieked, a harsh metal-on-metal grind that made Catherine cringe, but the young man seemed indifferent as he held his gaze through the doorway. The two bridged the entryway, Catherine momentarily turning to see the gear close behind them, but still keeping in step with him. 

As the common room illuminated, a monstrous beast draped across the couch raised his head to observe the newcomers. The beast’s velvet antlers spread out behind him like wings, contrasting the sleekness to his pitch black coat that covered him from wet nose to long, flickering tail. 

The young man pointed to the floor.

“Ralu, off.”

The beast stayed put.

“Ralu,” he began again, “Off of the couch.”

Ralu the beast furrowed his brow and slowly slunk off the couch, emitting a bark and low growl from the back of his throat. He lay sphinx-like before the entrance, paws and long legs thrust before the thick black mane that draped his chest and back. 

The young man kept an eye on Ralu as they headed towards the door marked “Kennels.” Ralu side eyed them as the door to the kennels closed, and began to turn back to the couch excitedly, when the door opened once again. Ralu slunk back to his original spot on the floor and pouted, nose between paws and labrador ears down by his jowls, lamenting the loss of his couch. 

The kennels consisted of double decker cages on one side of the room and open topped pens on the other side. The only creature in the kennel room was a small light brown one with a black and white ringed tail curled in a top cage who took no notice of them. At the end of the room was a silver door with a square wired window in the center. A piece of printer paper was taped to the center of the window with the name, “Sidney Mcintyre, medical advisor in training” scrawled across in purple highlighter. The young man unlocked the door and stepped inside. 

The lights came on with a flicker and then a flood, reflecting off the metallic surfaces of countertops and trays containing various medical instruments in plastic packaging. 

Sidney gestured to the exam table. 

“Sit.”

Catherine hopped up and listened to nitrile gloves snap behind her.

The dried blood between her fingers cracked as Sidney pulled her then-permanently cupped hands apart, recommencing and the heavy metallic smell. His concentration fully engulfed by his task left the room silent, except for the occasional crinkle of paper as Catherine shifted her weight in restlessness or discomfort. Her glances towards the door were frequent enough to divert Sidney’s attention.

“If you’re looking for Owen, he’s gone out. Howell set Ralu by the door as to alert us of his return. He’s not due back for another hour.” Sidney looked at her softly, his deep brown eyes against her hazel ones. “You’re going to be okay. You know that, right? We’re all here to help you and this is not going to be the thing that brings you down.”

Catherine looked at the ground.

“You have to tell me you’re going to be okay.”

She looked at the row of cabinets on the wall.

“Say it. ‘I will be okay’.”

Catherine mumbled whilst looking towards the door.

“Again.” He shook her wrists and smiled, now forcefully.

“I will be okay.” She whispered.

“I will be okay.” He repeated.

“I will be okay.” Catherine’s eyes finally met his and they smiled.

“You’re going to be okay.”

They settled into warm silence, Sidney cleaning her wounds and Catherine’s breath returning to an even gait. 

“Sidney?”

“Yeah?”

“How long have you been an agent?”

“Four years.”

“Then why don’t you have a partner?”

“Like an animal imaginame partner?” 

“Yeah.”

“Well,” he thought between tweezing the glass out of her hands. “I got recruited from being an apprentice when I was sixteen. Then I spent three years training: two of them apprenticing, and one here in this base. All the while, I don’t know, I guess I never really had the time to take care of a partner. I moved around a lot and having an imigname move around with me seemed like… I don’t know, baggage seems too harsh a word, and unfair seems too mild. It’s not that I didn’t want one, but, I guess it’s just not for me.”

Conversation ceased for the next few minutes as Sidney finished removing the glass shards and cleaning the cuts. A knock came from the door and Sidney rose to look around the paper taped to the window. He removed his gloves and cracked the door just enough to talk through. 

“Hey,” Sidney stammered. 

“Hey,” replied a female voice, “I need those disinfecting wipes for cleaning cages. The closet’s out. I was wondering if you had any?”

Sidney hesitated and glanced back at Catherine still sitting on the table.

“Uh, sure. Stay out there and let me find them for you.”

He closed the door and began rummaging through cabinets and drawers. 

“Sidney?” the girl called from behind the door. “Is there a reason I have to stand outside? Are you freezing rats again?”

“No,”

“Than what is it?”

“Kipper, I’ve just got… a thing… that I am working on… in here.” 

“What thing?”

“You know… stuff.”

“Is it that new recruit girl who broke the window?”

Sidney went dead silent. He turned to Catherine, fear and a demand for explanation combined on his expression, resulting in a tense, blank stare. 

The door swing open and a girl of seventeen stuck her head in. Catherine had seen her once or twice before, but had never talked to her besides business. She was taller than Catherine with sapphire eyes and a tremendous halo of golden curls free flowing behind her from the top of her head to the small of her back. The white light of the fluorescents bolded dark freckles splashed across her cheeks and arms. 

“I knew it!” She exclaimed, and then stood expectantly in the doorway, not bathing in her success nor inquiring further, just standing patiently in silence. 

“Do you need something more?” Sidney asked, confused. 

“Disinfectant wipes.”

He handed them to Kipper and asked, “You’re working with David, right?”

“No,” Kipper turned to leave. “Matthew is helping me. David hasn’t showed up yet.”

Sidney checked the clock on the wall.

“Initiation is in twenty minutes.” Sidney remarked, concern on the edge of his voice. 

“I hope he doesn’t make it.” Kipper snapped as she took the disinfectant and left.

Sidney toed the door closed and turning back to Catherine.

“Alrighty then. Let’s get your hands wrapped, and then you should be set.”

In ten minutes, with hands wrapped, Catherine left the surgery and passed through the kennels to the common room. On her way through, she nodded to Matthew, a short, blonde boy who was folding towels for cage floors. His blue eyes caught her as she left, and though he had enough time to call for her, he decided it was best not to. Moments later, in walked a boy his age who kicked over the stack freshly laundered towels Matthew had folded.

“Sorry,” the boy sneered.

Matthew stood and threw a now muddied towel at the boy. 

“Where the hell were you, David?” Matthew shot. “You were supposed to be here hours ago! Kipper needed help with kennels and I had to do them for you!”

“Oh, I was supposed to do this? Aww, thanks buddy!” David cooed. 

“I am not your buddy.” Matthew corrected through clenched teeth. 

“Whatever.”

Then David slammed the door carelessly behind him.

On the other side of head quarters, Ralu’s gruff bark echoed through the halls, announcing the arrival of one Owen Hooper. He was a tall man with the noose of ambition looped around his neck. The air stepped out of his way as he strode down the hall, and even the gnats avoided his eyes. 

“Good morning, Mr. Hooper.” Kipper addressed, falling in two steps behind his gait. 

“Good morning, Kayla.” He deadpanned. 

He swung the common room door open as everyone lined up: the recruits and recruited, the shaking and sure, the confident and condemned. As Owen walked by Catherine, she clenched her wrapped hands in their clammy bandages behind her back, never breaking eye contact with the clock on the adjacent wall. When Owen reached the end of the line, he turned on his heel and began again, his newly oiled shoes squeaking in the silence. 

“Congratulations. You three have made it through the six weeks of training, two preliminary skill tests, and now your initiation.”

The line slackened as everyone let out a sigh of relief, turning and nodding to their new colleagues. 

“Unfortunately,” Owen began again, “not everyone received my message that we had a break-in, and that all agents, both senior and prospect, should come through the east side fire escape.” His eyes pierced every one of the recruits, lingering on Catherine for a fraction of a second longer than the others. “But because we have full attendance, I can only assume that they received medical attention.” 

Owen stopped, feet shoulder length apart and arms clasped behind his back in the classic power stance, with Sidney dead center. 

“Would anyone care to explain how this could have happened?” Owen began to pace again. “This incident, had a passerby in the dark alerted the authorities, could have brought this entire mission and each one of us into the light. For I have been informed that there is DNA evidence leading from the entryway, straight to the trap wall entrance.”

Gazes avoided Owen’s and weight shifted from one foot to the other across the line. 

Leigh stepped forward in a calm yet defiant manner.

“May I share my findings?”

Owen smiled sweetly, an arrogant eye roll behind that mask.

“Yes, of course Leigh. What has your sleuthing brought about?”

“Blood tested positive for imigname enzymes, but I have not been able to run a gel to match it to known imignames. Along with the blood, samples of hair were recovered, ranging from one to four inches in length and of light brown color. The pattern of the glass is consistent with a large being falling into the glass backward, cutting itself when trying to stand, and then running to the hallway. The prints are about three inches in diameter, which eludes to a smaller creature. The most plausible scenario is that the larger creature was chasing the small imigname, crashed through the glass, and the imigname made it to the utility closet before being caught.” 

Her confidence was steadfast to the very end, and everyone saw how Owen’s pride wavered. 

“And how do you suppose the small imigname got into the utility closet?” He questioned.

“It has a lever handle.” Leigh grinned, “Even house cats can figure it out.”

“So where is this small brown imigname that can open doors and break windows?”

Leigh turned to Sidney, who sighed and left the room with a “Gimme me a sec.”

He returned a moment later wearing elbow-high, thick leather falconry gloves, clutching a hissing, spitting racoon-like creature with all four paws clawing the air frantically and a black and white ringed tail thrashing in Sidney’s face. 

Catherine stared in disbelief. It was the imigname from the kennels. 

“I present,” Leigh stated boldly, “the culprit, more commonly known as Tyker.”

The whole room looked from Owen, to Tyker, to Leigh, and back to Owen. His mouth gaped open and shut, comically resembling a trout being held out of water, dumbfounded by the evidence presented. He finally clamped his jaw shut and turned his icy stare to Kipper, who was in turn staring, unbelieving, at Tyker. 

“Kayla?” Owen questioned. “Who is responsible for Tyker’s safety and wellbeing?”

“I am,” Kipper replied.

“Is letting your imigname run wild at night looking out for her safety? Is her well being cared for when she is supposedly-” he glanced at Leigh, “being chased through broken glass?”

“No sir.”

Owen seemed satisfied with her response, so he finished with, “Do you have anything else to say?”

Kipper locked eyes with him and dared, “She’s got a mind of her own sir.”

And in that moment, Tyker made a final twist that wrenched herself free from Sidney’s grasp, lept to the ground, and scampered lightening fast across the floor and out the door, very nearly getting impaled by the stiletto heals of a tall, blonde woman rushing in.

“We’ve got a call,” the woman informed Owen directly. “Are you done here?” She looked around expectantly. From the diligent nodding from everyone except Owen, she made the executive order and called dismissal. 

Owen disappeared into the head office as the woman immediately began debriefing. 

“There’s been a wild animal sighting in Lithia Park. Animal control believes this to be in our division, so they are probably dealing with mixed civilian reports. All reports depict a large, aggressive, cat-like animal. Multiple reports have specifically stated “mountain lion,” but we have no internal network reports of an escaped imigname from other branches fitting that description. All agents on field work need to be extremely cautious, especially because this imigname has reportedly killed a civilian’s dog. As of now, I want only senior agents on field work. That would be Sidney, Leigh, Kipper, and Howell. All four of you begin to collect your gear, the rest of you please wait for Owen to give instructions.”

The senior agents began turning to leave, but were stopped as Owen called, “Now wait a minute, Joanna. I believe this would be an outstanding opportunity for some of our newly recruited agents to learn the craft of fieldwork. Why not let some of them go along?”

Joanna exhaled sharply. “Alright. Matthew, join the seniors.”

“Actually,” Owen interjected in a sickeningly polite tone, “it was David who scored the highest on the field work preliminary.”

“Fine. David and Matthew, join the seniors. We roll out in ten.”

Everyone disbanded, except for Leigh, who Owen called back.

“Leigh, maybe you better lay out of this mission. Alright? Because, you know, after the last field mission you were assigned on, maybe you want to do more training? How does that sound? Maybe you could clean up the deli before the police arrive? Okay? Wonderful.”

And he walked away without Leigh ever getting a word in. 

Joanna, Howell, Sidney, Kipper, David, and Matthew rummaged in the locker room, preparing for the mission. There was indistinct murmur among all, but the general tone was positive. When most had filed out, only David and Matthew remained. 

Moving past him, David shoved him against the wall and chided, “See you out there, Buddy.”

Matthew waited until he left, kicked the bench, and stormed out, heading up the stairs to the deli instead of the fire escape. 

When he reached the storefront, Leigh and Catherine were sweeping up glass and turning tables rightside up. 

Matthew dropped his pack. 

“Switch with me.” He whispered.

The two girls looked up.

“What?”

“Switch with me!” Now he roared. “I am not going out with that- that- prick on my first field mission!” 

Leigh turned to Catherine. 

“Go.”

“I can’t,” Catherine shook her head. “Owen didn’t call me.”

“Screw him. I’ll get in more trouble than you will for going. You can do this.”

Catherine looked back and forth between Leigh and Matthew, and then grabbed the pack and sprinted out what was left of the front door to the van idling outside. She gave a quick glance back to them in the storefront as she leapt into the van, and slammed the door before she could stop herself.


End file.
